


domestic bliss

by harinezumi_kun



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Future-fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-11
Updated: 2010-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 17:34:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/409149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harinezumi_kun/pseuds/harinezumi_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the ohmiya household - a tableau in three</p>
            </blockquote>





	domestic bliss

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so here is some ridiculous ohmiya-with-kids future!fic that i actually wrote a while ago, but only just got around to finishing. it's actually three short stories, but they're all related, so i just threw them together for this. for some reason i gave them two children, and for some reason i named them after their dads XD; also, the setting is pretty vague, so i guess you can imagine it as AU if you want, or not if you don't.

**The Things We Do For Love**

Ohno jumps when he hears the front door bang open, and his hand twitches across the painting he’s working on. Now there’s a streak of red where there should only be blue canvas. Damn.

He forgets his consternation a moment later when his daughter’s frantic voice rings through the house.

“Papa! Papa, Papa!”

Ohno leaps up, dropping brush and palette in a mad dash out of his small studio. His mind has already jumped to _injury—bleeding—hospital_ even though the rational part of his brain knows that it’s probably something much less dramatic. Still, he breaths a sigh of relief when he finds Tomoko whole and sound, standing in the genkan in her school clothes. Her little yellow cap is hanging by its cord down her back, and she’s dropped her lunch box and backpack and the rest of the ridiculous amount of baggage required for one day of kindergarten in a pile around her feet.

And, clutched tightly to her chest, a cardboard box stenciled with the words “free to a good home”.

It’s about this time that Ohno registers the soft cheeping mews coming from inside the box. Tomoko is watching him with shining eyes.

“Tomo-chan,” he begins slowly, but the little girl is already babbling an explanation.

“Please, Papa, please, they were all alone, someone just _left_ ‘em by the road, and one of ‘em almost got out and he might’ve run in front of a car, and they’re _so_ sweet, Papa, can we please, please, _please_ —”

Ohno holds up a hand to stem the torrent of words. Tomoko snaps her mouth shut, but is still trembling with excitement. All Ohno can think is that Nino really doesn’t like cats.

“Let me see them,” he says instead, and Tomoko immediately sets the box down and carefully pulls back the flaps.

The kittens look up at him, shaky and uncertain. There are two, and they are tiny, their eyes still watery blue, and Ohno can already tell they are too thin. One is a dark, coppery orange and the other a deep gray that is almost blue. Their little mouths are bright pink as they continue to squeak sadly.

“Oh boy,” Ohno sighs. Tomoko looks up hopefully, and he puts on his best stern Papa face. “Don’t set your heart on keeping them,” he warns her. “We have to wait till Daddy gets home to decide anything. But for now, I’ll call Uncle Aiba, maybe he can tell us what to do.”

“Okay!” Tomoko says brightly, and hustles the kittens off to the kitchen. Ohno follows at a slower pace, plucking the cordless phone off the coffee table as he goes. He has Aiba on the line a minute later.

“How old are they?” Aiba asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know. Young. I could probably fit them in the palm of my hand.” Ohno pauses, and watches as Tomoko tries to tempt the kittens with a saucer of milk.

Aiba makes a low sound, and Ohno hears movement on the other end of the line. “They’ll probably need formula, then. And if you have a heating pad, keep that with them to keep them warm.”

“Oh.” Ohno blinks a few times. “Where do I even get—”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming over. There’s a pet supply store near here, I’ll pick up what you need on my way.”

“Eh? No, no, you don’t have to do that, I can—”

“It’s no trouble,” Aiba says cheerfully. “See you soon!” And then he’s gone.

Ohno stares at the phone a moment, then shuffles off to find a heating pad.

About forty-five minutes later, Aiba arrives with a bagful of kitten supplies and a big bear hug for Tomoko. The six-year-old is highly distressed to discover that she shouldn’t have been giving the kittens people-milk, but then dedicates herself to memorizing everything her uncle is explaining about how to mix kitten formula, how many times a day to feed them, how to use the kitten-shampoo, what setting the heating pad should be on. Ohno’s fairly certain Tomoko is picking up more than he is.

By the time Nino gets home, they’ve moved their operation out to the living room. Aiba is sprawled on the couch watching the news, and the kittens are blissfully unconscious in Tomoko’s lap. Ohno looks up just in time to see Nino’s expression of disbelief shift to one of tightly reigned irritation.

“Surprise,” Ohno says weakly.

“I found them by the road, Daddy, in a box,” Tomoko begins, but softly, desperate not to disturb her charges. “They’re so little, they’re just babies! Uncle Aiba already taught me how to take care of them, so…”

Nino’s expression softens just a little as he comes to kneel next to his daughter. He strokes one of the little furry bodies experimentally. He opens his mouth, changes his mind and closes it again before finally speaking.

“Looks like you’re doing a good job,” he says, and Ohno inwardly breaths a sigh of relief. Then, Nino stands. “I’m going to start dinner, then. Satoshi, why don’t you come help me. You too, Uncle Aiba.”

Ohno and Aiba exchange a nervous glance and follow Nino into the kitchen reluctantly.

“You didn’t tell her we could keep them,” Nino says the moment Ohno’s through the doorway.

“I didn’t,” Ohno replies, slightly defensive. “But I couldn’t just put them back out in the street.”

“No,” Nino concedes, pulling vegetables out of the crisper. 

“I know a cat rescue you can take them to,” Aiba volunteers, although he sounds a little disappointed. 

“Good,” Nino says quickly. When Ohno comes alongside him and takes the scallions to start chopping them, Nino looks a bit mollified. “Sorry,” he mutters, dropping his head to Ohno’s shoulder briefly. “Long day.”

“Still haven’t finished the score?” Ohno murmurs, as Nino moves off to start water boiling.

“Oh I _finished_ it weeks ago. They just keep telling me to change it.” Nino bangs around at the gas range irritably. “I was under the impression they hired me because they _liked_ my music, but I’ll be goddamned if I haven’t changed fifty percent of what I wrote for them.”

As Nino straightens up and starts rubbing his hands over his face, Aiba crosses the room to grip him reassuringly by the shoulders.

“You’re really brave,” Aiba tells him earnestly. “Being a working mom, in this day and age.”

“Shut up,” Nino says, but he’s laughing now, and Ohno smiles to himself over the cutting board.

Nino and Ohno finish dinner while Aiba goes back out to the living room to keep an eye on Tomoko and the kittens. They don’t make anything fancy, just miso and rice and hamburger—a family favorite—and they eventually talk Tomoko into leaving the kittens asleep in their box long enough to actually eat. Aiba stays for dinner, but leaves soon after, planning to meet Sho and Jun for drinks. Before he goes, he writes down the address and phone number of the cat rescue. 

Later, Nino and Ohno are on the living room couch on either side of Tomoko, who has reclaimed the kittens. They’ve been fed again, and fallen asleep in a pile in her lap, their tiny bellies happily distended. Tomoko herself is fading fast, her head dropping towards her chest, and Ohno glances over in time to see Nino brushing the fine strands of hair away from her face.

“Daddy,” she murmurs, fighting valiantly for consciousness. “I thought of names for them.”

Nino catches Ohno’s eye, and his lips twist down a little—they haven’t straight out told Tomoko she can’t have them, and now isn’t exactly the best time. Ohno shrugs, and Nino lets out a barely audible sigh.

“What names?” he asks gently.

“Can we call them Taka and Yuuji?”

Nino looks up at Ohno again, and this time his eyes are wide and bemused. Tomoko doesn’t really know who Taka and Yuuji are, just that they are central characters in many of the bedtime stories Ohno tells. She knows they are the best of friends, they talk in funny voices, and they always wear red and blue.

“I think those are pretty good names,” Ohno says with a crooked smile for Nino.

Tomoko doesn’t respond, and when they look down, they see that the little girl has finally succumbed to exhaustion. Carefully, Ohno removes the kittens from her lap and puts them back in the box with the heating pad, while Nino lifts their daughter and starts to carry her off to bed. Tomoko drapes bonelessly over Nino’s shoulder, her little hands swinging around his neck as he climbs the stairs. Ohno follows with the box—Aiba said the kittens will have to be fed every few hours, so they’ll have to spend the night in Ohno and Nino’s room.

After he’s tucked Tomoko into bed and pulled the door not-quite-shut, Nino looks down at the box in Ohno’s arms with a long sigh.

“We’re keeping them, aren’t we?” he says, resigned.

“Well,” Ohno says slowly, following Nino’s gaze. “Tomo-chan is pretty much besotted with them. And I do like cats. And she picked really good names.”

Nino sighs again, more of a groan, pulling his hands down his face and stretching it into a comically distraught expression. But then he just grins and slides an arm around Ohno’s waist, leading him away towards the bedroom.

“The things I do for love,” he says with exaggerated martyrdom. 

“And I love you,” Ohno says, leaning over to give Nino a quick kiss on the cheek. “My beautiful wife.”

“Seriously,” Nino mutters, “has that joke not gotten old yet?”

**Ohno Teaches the Baby Bad Habits**

“Satoshi.”

Nino’s voice drifts down from upstairs, in that drawn-out rising intonation that can mean only one thing.

Tomoko grins up at Ohno over her finger painting. “You’re in trouble,” she sing-songs. Ohno puts his own paint-stained finger to his lips, in a conspiratorial shushing motion.

A moment later, Nino marches down the stairs with sixteen-month old Kazu on his hip.

“Why,” Nino begins, glaring, “is the baby calling me ‘Mama’?”

“Mama,” Kazu repeats, making a grab for Nino’s nose.

Ohno and Tomoko exchange a glance.

Then he runs for it.

**The RPG Guide to Parenting**

As they come out of the grocery store loaded down with bags—except little Kazu, who is still only two and is only carrying his juice box—Tomoko grabs Nino’s arm.

“Oh, Daddy, Daddy, can I be party leader, can I?”

An elderly woman, entering as they leave, eyes the little girl in confusion.

“Me, me, me!” Kazu insists, pushing in front of his sister.

“You’re too little!” Tomoko tells him bossily, pushing back. Kazu stumbles backwards into Ohno’s legs and starts to wail.

“Tomo-chan!” Nino hisses. “Do _not_ push your brother! And you know the rules—whoever wins janken gets to be party leader.”

Ohno finishes soothing Kazu, and gives Tomoko a stern look when she starts to pout. Nino holds out his hand, clenched in a fist.

“Okay, ready? Jan—ken—pon!”

Kazu is really still too young to fully grasp the concept of the game and does paper every time. Ohno throws paper as well, letting Tomoko and Nino—who both threw scissors—have the final showdown. To Tomoko’s great displeasure, Nino wins.

“It’s okay,” Nino says, patting his daughter’s head. “You can be player two.”

Tomoko grumbles mutinously, but falls into line behind Nino. “Kazu has to be last because he has the least experience,” she insists.

Nino rolls his eyes at Ohno, who hefts Kazu up onto his back, then falls into line behind Tomoko. 

“Alright, troops,” Nino says, earning them some more odd glances, “here we go!”

He starts off down the street at a march, Tomoko and Ohno in tow. After a moment, he breaks into a jog, and the rest of the family follows his lead. Suddenly, he makes a sharp turn around a telephone pole—Tomoko giggles, following his path exactly and matching his ninety-degree turn, with Ohno right behind her. They continue like this all the way down the block, sometimes speeding up or slowing down, or making bizarre detours around bike racks and fellow pedestrians. 

They eventually reach the house, and when Nino stops to unlock the front door, Tomoko goes barreling into him, laughing and throwing her arms around his waist. Ohno follows suit, crushing them both to the door, with Kazu shrieking in mirth over his shoulder.

“Uf,” Nino groans, face pressed into the door. “That’s definitely not how it goes in the game.”


End file.
